


One More on the Board

by Rollingjules



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gyms, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, Television Watching, planet fitness - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollingjules/pseuds/Rollingjules
Summary: Keith doesn’t like to be bothered when he goes to the gym. He wishes people would mind their own business. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself having a full conversation with some buff dude on the treadmill next to his.





	One More on the Board

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a real occurence at an actual Planet Fitness, lol. If you’re not familiar with Family Feud, and even if you are, please take a few minutes to watch this [hilarious clip!](http://youtu.be/Z-1VR7CGZNc)
> 
> Thank you so much to Foxberry @particlebarrier for being my beta reader!

Keith plugged his headphones in first, as always. His routine was particularly important to him when the gym was crowded. Both his feet were firmly planted on either side of the treadmill strip, and would stay that way until he was completely ready. He settled his water bottle in the right-hand cupholder, then rolled his face towel up and dropped it in the left one. On the treadmill console, he got the built-in TV screen squared away first. Plugged in the right channel, turned subtitles on, set it to his preferred volume: 11, just loud enough to be heard over his feet hitting the treadmill but not enough to roar in his ears. Steve Harvey appeared on the screen. For an orphan, he thought to himself, he sure got a lot of mileage out of **_Family_** _Feud_. After that it was simple to get his regular workout set up. The perfect incline, the ideal warm-up speed. As Steve introduced the Ng and Guerrero families on either side of him, Keith fired up the treadmill and started walking.

It was good for him to have a focus while he worked out. It kept him from getting impatient or overthinking his movements. Commercial breaks were a good time to assess how he was doing, what his body was feeling. But most importantly, it also meant that he had something to keep his attention; earbuds in, eyes straight ahead, he'd never have to talk to anybody. Keith would never understand people who saw the gym as a great place to strike up a conversation with a total stranger. Maybe it was the idea of a captive audience. They underestimated Keith's willingness to tuck the unused end of his headphones cord into his jacket pocket and lie. 'Sorry, I'm studying.' 'I'm listening to a lecture.' 'I've got an audiobook.' Or, if he felt especially cold, total silence was _always_ a good shutdown. Using the equipment’s TV consoles was the logical next step – he’d learned through observation and experience that chatty strangers had a strange reverence for daytime TV.

He was feeling great. He'd worked up to a sustainable jog, working his arms while Steve commented on his contestants' ridiculous answers. Because no, chances are one hundred people are _not_ likely to immediately think that ducks are _'smelly_.' Keith had fun playing along in his head, making guesses of his own and smirking at the odd on-the-spot, under pressure answers the guests cranked out. Next question, top five answers on the board: ‘ _We asked one hundred men: what would you say to a woman to convince her to date you?_ '

Money. Nice car. Caring personality. _Single_. All solid choices, and that last one got a quick huff of a giggle out of Keith. One answer left to be guessed, and either nobody was thinking like one hundred straight dudes, or nobody wanted to admit it.

" _Gotta_ be dicks." An amused voice said to his right.

Keith was a bit startled by the sudden intrusion. He’d forgotten that he was still basically in public; that this was not the privacy of his _apartment_ equipped with a fancy treadmill and Steve Harvey’s facial expressions. He risked a sidelong look to gauge the situation, then darted his eyes back to face his screen to more discreetly evaluate what he’d seen. Damn, this guy was pretty ripped. Couldn’t he do better than a Planet Fitness? Wasn’t that ‘no lunking’ philosophy usually a buzzkill to guys like that? He looked again, this time turning his head a bit pretending to check the time on the distant wall clock.

Oh. Well, at least he hadn’t said anything aloud. As scarred-up as he was, this dude probably had plenty of reasons of his own to want a ‘judgement-free zone.’ What with the trauma-shocked white streak, and all. Keith felt a bit like an asshole for being a dickhead, and doubly so for being nosy. He turned his attention back to the _Feud_.

It turned out he’d tuned back in just in time to hear Vivian Ng call out ‘ _A nice house!_ ’

A positively explosive snort erupted from the buff guy. Keith glanced over to confirm- yeah, he was also watching it on his own treadmill’s TV, dorky plastic over-ear-cuff earbuds and all.

“Don’t you think? I mean it’s gotta be.”

It took Keith a second to realize he was being spoken to.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah probably.” He nodded absently, his head bobbing as he jogged. His normal reaction would have been to ignore him or pretend he hadn’t heard, but he felt guilty about his snap judgement. Talking to him was basically the same as an apology to the universe, right?

In Keith’s ears, he could hear Thomas Ng take his turn and guess _‘no kids._ ’ Strike two, getting the Guerrero family another strike closer to a chance to steal.

“I feel like there’s an obvious answer here and nobody wants to bring it up.”

Keith raised a silent prayer that this guy could talk about something other than penises for five seconds and pulled out his right earbud to hear him better. “Seems like it, but I can see why.” When the host was known to have expressive reactions to risqué answers, guests were smart to keep it PG while representing their families on cable television.

“I mean, people date for weird reasons, maybe it’ll be something dumb.”

Paul Ng, clearly spitballing, threw out a quick ‘ _Good with his hands?_ ’ while making a grabbing gesture with both his own. Steve Harvey was not impressed.

‘ ** _Good_** _with his **hands**. His hands, Paul. And just **what** do you do?’_

‘ _I’m a dental hygienist._ ’

‘ _Do you use your **hands**_ ,’ he paused to mime a boob grab on his own chest with one hand, cue card held in the other, ‘ _-at work, Paul?_ ’

“Well I mean if they’re trying to think like a hundred straight guys – or bi guys, who knows –  I’d call that a good guess, I’m just saying…” said the man, a joking smile lighting up his face. Keith noticed the scar across the bridge of his nose, and how it seemed to crinkle near the tapered edges when he smiled.

What was more interesting, though, was that he had specified ‘straight guys’ in particular. So… deliberate ‘I’m a good person’ posturing, or was he talking ‘guys not like myself?’ This got the gears turning in Keith’s mind. After all, he himself had had a very similar thought a few minutes earlier.

In his left ear, Keith heard the familiar wrong answer buzzer indicating their third strike. The Guerreros were huddling up to confer before their one chance at taking the accumulated points for themselves. ‘ _Guerrero family, what’s your answer?_ ’ Steve prompted on screen.

“Here we go,” he chuckled to Keith, turning to look. Keith did the same at his own console.

Celia Guerrero called out ‘ _Employment! A good job, Steve!_ ’

Keith shrugged, smirking. “Well she’s not _wrong_ , that’s a good one.” And quite possibly a winner.

Two sets of eyebrows shot up in surprise when the buzzer sounded again, signaling another wrong answer.

“I’m telling you.”

Keith was enjoying himself, almost in spite of himself. “We’ll see,” he said playfully, feigning aloofness. Steve turned to the board.

‘ _Okay, okay… We asked one hundred men, ‘what would you say to a lady to get a date…’ Oh **no**.’ _ There was a chime as the final answer was revealed.

 _'‘Well-endowed’ was the number-one answer. I was-’_ Keith didn’t hear the rest of his comments. He was a little busy being taken completely by surprise by the poorly stifled good-natured laughter shaking the treadmill directly to his right. Buff guy was barely keeping it together; he paused his workout to take a breather.

“Oh my god, _called_ it… oh man…” Still laughing, he trailed off huffing amidst airy little giggles.

Keith couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t patient enough for subtlety, or tactful enough. So he went fishing.

“Yeah, I guess you know how to think like a guy who dates women.” His lip curled up into a lopsided smile, tugging at his cheek and showing a little teeth - partially to hide his slight wince at saying something so cringey to a total stranger.

He was answered by a snort; one Keith was relieved to hear. “ _Not_ from personal experience, let me tell you. Or personal interest, even. More like being an unfortunate bystander…”

"Yeah," Keith nodded in understanding, "I know the feeling." Might as well throw it out there, no harm. He didn't look like the 'I'm being friendly so I don't _look_ like a serial killer' type.

Things trailed off from there, and they both went about their workouts in friendly silence. Keith was surprised that he didn't find his presence to be too uncomfortable, but then again it was statistically impossible for _everybody_ at the gym to be annoying. Keith drifted between the TV and his own thoughts as he liked, until his companion spoke again.

"Hey, do you work out a lot? I feel like I've seen you around when it’s pretty late, too." Conversational. Casual. But muscle guy was curious, which didn't go unnoticed.

"Ha, asking already?” Keith joked. “But yeah, man, it's quiet closer to midnight. Less smelly." Which was the honest truth. Just not all of it; there was no need to give him the full autobiography.

"I uh... tend to feel a little self-conscious in my workout clothes. I'm sure that's a _huge_ shock to you," he said, gesturing down at himself with a swish of both arms. Keith stayed quiet to let him finish. "It's easier for me if I have somebody else around, I feel like I don't stick out as much. I don't- I mean, I don't want to cramp your style or anything but I was wondering if you'd be cool with just... maybe somebody hanging around sometimes, just when I happen to be here?" He seemed conflicted, like he hated to even ask but wanted to reach out.

Internally, at first Keith bristled at the thought. This was supposed to be his quiet time. But he wasn't asking for it _not_ to be, he was just asking for somebody to chill with. He seemed like a good guy who wanted the same thing Keith did: for people to just leave him alone. Maybe strength in numbers wasn't such a bad idea, see if it kept the talkative types away. And already this dude had done something nobody else ever had; he'd _asked_.

Nodding, Keith gave him a small smile. "Sure, that sounds fine. Looks like we've got the same taste in treadmill TV anyway." He laughed breathily, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his screen.

He was expecting the thank you. But he hadn't been expecting the very... emotional look of gratitude on his face.

"Seriously? Thank you so much... I swear I won't annoy the shit out of you! Call me Shiro, I don't know if you do weights or anything but if you ever need a spotter, I've got you." The little thumbs-up he gave along with his smile was pretty endearing, especially on a guy his size.

"Keith. I'm not too worried, and thanks." He fired off an appreciative thumbs-up in return and turned back to face forward.

The two of them resumed their workouts, Shiro letting loose the occasional snort or giggle as Steve Harvey riffed off his guests' answers. It was nice to feel neutral, maybe even positive, about company for once. But Shiro wasn't an asshole and he wasn't a whiner, and he didn't overshare or try to wrangle his attention either. When Keith got home, he felt more satisfied with his workout than he had in ages.

 

 

Keith ran into Shiro at the gym a lot after their first encounter. Some days they nearly missed each other, one arriving just as the other was finishing up. Other times their timing overlapped well and they’d talk while they used the equipment; usually about whatever was on Shiro’s mind. But over the next few weeks, Keith found himself looking forward to their conversations more and more. Shiro was earnest and genuine in a way Keith found really refreshing. He was no babe in the woods either though, and Keith discovered that Shiro could actually be pretty mature on the rare occasion their conversations veered that way. But it never happened in a posturing, taking-himself-too-seriously sort of way. Shiro didn't put on airs, he was the kind of guy that made Keith think things like 'he's a good person' and 'he's a good friend.'

“Do you think fish sleep?” Shiro asked, breaking the quiet cadence of whooshing fans, the distant whir of someone on a stationary bike, and shoes against treadmill belts.  
  
“Uh…” He must've misheard him; Keith waited for Shiro to repeat himself.  
  
“They probably have to, right? But what do they do if there’s just _ocean_ and nowhere to hide out? Is it like they drift along and hope for the best? Or do they just kinda zone out when they get tired and follow the current for a while? How would they know if a predator's about to come along and eat them? How does that _work_?" The contemplative tone Shiro used was more suited to mechanical engineering than to fish naps.  
  
"I can honestly tell you I've never thought about it before."  
  
"But what about things like jellyfish though, they don't even have _eyes_ , right? And they have that weird fucked up central nervous system, would they even _need_ to sleep?" Clearly, the debate had already been running in Shiro’s head for a while now.

"Google would probably know," Keith supplied helpfully. Shiro didn't seem to hear him, lost in thought again already. Well, he was good for a laugh at least. _That_ much Keith had already figured out.

 

 

With time, Keith became a more active participant when Shiro wanted to talk. Something unusual or funny would happen at work, and he'd be excited to share it with Shiro the next time he saw him. He might stumble on a weird bit of trivia or an interesting anecdote from history, and make a note to share it with him to see what he thought - maybe even make him laugh. Shiro seemed to enjoy it when he talked more, along with his company. More importantly though, Shiro respected his boundaries. He'd lead with asking if Keith _wanted_ to talk and then go from there. There were plenty of times when Keith was fine with it, and it was fine and they had a great time. But when he said he didn't feel up for it, Shiro didn't press him for details and he didn't act hurt like Keith had snubbed him.

Working out with Shiro came with its own set of problems, though. Keith had accepted that he was okay with opening up to him a little, that part was nice even if he wasn’t really _used_ to being so comfortable. But Shiro had come to dominate Keith’s idle thoughts in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d known the moment he laid eyes on him that Shiro was attractive, there was no getting around that. He was just going to have to deal with it. But they were always so close together, always right next to each other, and Keith could see the ripples and the tension of every muscle in his body, every little bead of sweat that ran down the side of his face. There were times when he’d caught himself wanting to reach out and touch him, or staring instead of spotting him. It was happening again right now, in fact, as Keith tried desperately to think about the game show answers in his ears instead of how Shiro’s pecs jiggled a little at the higher treadmill speeds. Thank god he was next to him and not behind him, or he might have had to excuse himself ages ago. He tried to rein in his thoughts by getting back to the conversation at hand.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you. You take this whole workout thing way too seriously anyway." Keith shrugged, swaying on the treadmill just a bit.

"What makes you think I take it too seriously?" he asked, a look of amused curiosity raising his eyebrow and lifting the corner of his mouth. It was so unfair, Shiro was just _effortlessly_ gorgeous and Keith had to act like he was completely unaffected.

"...You bought a Planet Fitness shirt."

"Well that’s not fair, it was kinda necessary at the time. I... just, the shirt I _had been_ wearing ripped. Like right down the armpit. So... y'know."

"How the fuck did you do that?"

Shiro looked sheepish, a little ashamed to admit it. "I was just using the elliptical..."

 Keith was incredulous, and merciless. “Jesus Christ, Shiro, you’re a real inspiration. Do your pecs break out of your tank top when you lift weights, too?”

 “Only if I’m putting on a show.” The little sliver of mischievous smirk that came over Shiro’s face nearly knocked Keith over. The wink that followed was almost too much.

 Joking was a mistake.

  _Shit_ , he thought, _I’ve got it **bad**_.

 

 

Keith became jittery as his crush on Shiro intensified, a background thrumming through his bones that dogged him from the moment he woke up in the morning to when he went to bed after workouts at night. He started going to the gym _more_ , hoping that if he went when Shiro wasn’t around to be maddeningly nice and inescapably handsome he’d be able to handle it better when he did have to see him. It quickly backfired, as Shiro had slotted himself so perfectly into Keith’s routine that the late-night sessions without him started to seem lonely, too quiet.

Quiet turned into a pattern, Keith noticed. As the week passed, Shiro seemed to have less of his usual pep and talked less during their workouts. Keith felt like he wasn’t very good at starting conversations to fill the silence, but Shiro’s smile told him wordlessly that he appreciated the effort every time. He didn’t pry, but he did let Shiro know that he was around if he needed anything. They had exchanged numbers ages ago to plan workouts together. Sometimes Keith’s phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket knowing Shiro’s messages were there, innocently torturing him, but Shiro didn’t need to know that. He just needed to know Keith was here to be a friend outside of their workout sessions, too.

Whatever was troubling Shiro seemed to pass after a few days, to Keith’s relief. Shiro never came to him to talk about it, and he hoped that whatever it was had been resolved smoothly. Keith still had all his extra agitated energy to work out thanks to Shiro’s infuriatingly wholesome, absurdly sexy existence. Shiro smiled more like he usually did, talked more, joked more. What Keith had missed the most though was Shiro’s truly _unique_ perspective on the mundane and the mysterious.

“Hey Keith.” Shiro spoke up in that same voice of ‘deep thought leading up to an off the wall question’ Keith had come to recognize instantly.

 _Here we go_ , thought Keith, a grin pulling up one side of his mouth. “Yeah?”

A few moments passed as Shiro caught his breath before he continued.

“What do you think clouds taste like? It’s colder up there, is it like that crispy cold air you get when you stick your face in the freezer? Or is that more like a frozen vegetables thing? I know they’re technically soaking wet, since it’s just water particles, but even water has a taste, right? From the extra shit in it.”

Well _that_ proved he was back to normal. Keith couldn’t hold back a single husky burst of laughter in response as they jogged. “Seriously? What do you think about that starts you off on these conversations? You’re like a one-man Yahoo Answers, what do you _do_ that makes you think this stuff up all the time?”

Shiro snorted, pleased with himself. “I mean usually I just think of it while I’m falling asleep, but I’ll remember it in the morning and it’ll _stay_ with me. It’ll bug me unless I talk about it!”

“So _naturally_ , rather than seek out information you seek out _me_.” Chuckling, Keith reached over to give him a little shove on the shoulder. Shiro nudged back playfully.

“Hell yeah, who else would I turn to in times of deep intellectual crisis? You want me to trust the _internet_ with that?”

“Oh god that’s a good point, they’d have you believing all _kinds_ of dumb shit. Stick with me, I won’t steer you wrong.”

The two of them laughed at themselves, and Keith began to settle back into his workout rhythm when Shiro spoke again.

“Hey… Keith?”

“Got another one for me already?” Teasing, Keith turned his head to face him again. The smile Shiro replied with wasn’t joking though, it was almost… wistful? Keith furrowed his brow to prompt him to keep going.

“Do you wanna… uh… Do you wanna, maybe go out for breakfast after a workout sometime? My treat?”

Shiro had never looked so meek before, almost nervous. Keith didn’t understand why until he realized Shiro wasn’t flushed from the treadmill – he was _blushing_.

“Uh, I--” Keith didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. So focused on Shiro’s invitation, he’d forgotten to pace himself, and two long strides later he slammed into the glass screen of his treadmill console with a loud, sweaty _WHACK!_

Shiro was on him in an instant, nearly tripping over his own treadmill to see if he was alright. Reeling, Keith groaned and tried to make himself look less conspicuous as the front desk clerk and the few patrons scattered around them looked over to see what had happened. He couldn’t care less about the strangers. Shiro’s opinion mattered though, and Keith had just made a fool of himself. Still a little wobbly, he stepped off the belt and planted his feet on either side of it, hastily pausing his workout. The console swayed back and forth as the machine still reeled from the sudden impact. Keith felt more like it was the pathetic flag of a sinking ship – kind of like his life.

“Sorry…” he croaked, feeling his cheek with the pads of his fingers.

“Why are you _sorry_?” demanded Shiro, alarmed. He rested one hand lightly on Keith’s back to keep him steady.

“Because now everybody’s looking at us.” Exactly what he knew Shiro didn’t want, from the very start.

Shiro scoffed and patted Keith on the back sympathetically. “Yeah, but not because I look different. Because you’re the most _graceful_ runner to ever use a treadmill. It’s fine, buddy.”

Stretching to shake off the shock of the impact, Keith snorted and gave Shiro a look. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

He was so busy chiding himself Keith almost forgot about Shiro’s original question. Shit, that wasn’t something he could just leave hanging. That was _important_. After making sure they weren’t still being watched, he got back to the topic at hand.

“Um. So… you want to go for breakfast? Did you mean like now, are you hungry?” He had a feeling that was a stupid question, but he had to be sure. Stupid questions were one thing but stupid answers were _worse_ , and if Shiro was just asking to be social the last thing Keith wanted to do was make it difficult by thinking he’d meant a date.

Hesitant, Shiro shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I mean, not _necessarily_ , just whenever. Sometime. If you wanted to. _Only_ if you wanted to.”

Keith couldn’t decide if nervous discomfort was adorable or unfitting on Shiro. But he couldn’t think about it for long; he had to give an answer.

“Well if this is like, a social thing where you want to hang out outside the gym, then that’s fine. Just let me know when you’re free.” He paused, mustering the courage to be vulnerable.

“But if this is more like a date, then, you’re in luck: because I’m a pretty _cheap_ date.” Keith risked a mild smile, not wanting to get his hopes up _too_ high.

Surprise and then delight bloomed across Shiro’s face as a broad smile took over all his features, crinkling his scar and lighting up his eyes. “Are you serious?!”

He was beaming from ear to ear. Keith had never seen anybody get so excited about him. He wasn’t complaining, but he wasn’t quite sure why Shiro was acting like he hit the jackpot when it was really just _Keith_. Shiro leaned in to pull him into a one-armed hug; one that Keith didn’t mind at all despite the sweat and the throbbing in half his face.

“Yeah, but if you’re buying then at least let me get the tip, okay?” Unknowingly, Keith’s smile was a lot wider and his jitters were mysteriously gone, replaced by a tingle of excitement down his spine and through his fingertips. “Hey, wanna get out of here?”

“ _Hell_ yeah.” Keith didn’t have to be able to see Shiro’s face to know he was grinning.

As they picked their gear out from the cups and holsters of the equipment, Shiro burst into a laughing fit that had Keith quirking an eyebrow. “What _now_?”

Snorting, Shiro extended his index finger to point at Keith’s treadmill. Keith looked up and saw a very distinct, sweaty cheek and half a temple pressed into the glass of its console. Still giggly, Shiro couldn’t let it go.

“I’m almost _sad_ we’re going for breakfast now, because that’s the best pancake I’ll see all night.”

“Shut the fuck up and go change, you asshole, my stomach and I aren’t going to wait forever.” Keith rolled his eyes and wiped the greasy skin print away with his face towel, shoulder-checking Shiro on his way past him.

As he slipped away to change out of his sweaty workout clothes, Keith thought about how much he’d hated it when people tried to talk to him while he was trying to get shit done. He wasn’t sure if he’d still be irritated by it or not, since Shiro absolutely qualified as a special case - but he couldn’t help but feel glad that it had turned out the way it did, embarrassments and all.

His stomach growling reminded him that he had more to look forward to tonight. Keith met Shiro out in the parking lot by his car, and before they split up to drive to Shiro’s favorite late night greasy diner, Keith pulled him into a quick kiss. A kiss of hopeful excitement, and eager anticipation. If he was lucky, he’d have a _lot_ more looking forward to do in his future; treadmills notwithstanding.

**Author's Note:**

> At their wedding, Shiro makes a speech about when they first met, the importance of a good impression, and how his first words to Keith were about penises lmfao.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! I had a great time writing it. <3 Comments and kudos really make my day, thank you for reading! ;u;


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